


Timendi Causa est Nescire (Ignorance is the Cause of Fear)

by GrimTamlain



Series: Open Heart: Doctor Caylinn Darling [4]
Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Boss/Employee Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ethan is dealing as best he can with his mother, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, MC has horrible luck, Mentor/Protégé, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26684962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimTamlain/pseuds/GrimTamlain
Summary: Doctor Caylinn Darling wants nothing more than to prove that she deserves being on the diagnostics team, that she got in based on her own merit, not for favoritism like Landry had accused her of before he left.She juggles her relationships with her friends, training her intern, and research for her patients, all while concealing the biggest secret she's ever kept: her relationship with Ethan Ramsey.She may be exhausted, and stressed, but what else can you be when your a resident at a Boston Hospital?
Relationships: Ethan Ramsey/Main Character (Open Heart), Ethan Ramsey/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Open Heart: Doctor Caylinn Darling [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939489
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I realized that my OC Doctor Darling was very Mary Sue-ish, nothing but an object to write smut about her and attractive doctors, so I decided to write something that would show she's actually intelligent, and not just a couple holes lol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Caylinn Darling may not be as talented and quick as Bryce, or as calm and collected as Jackie, or as intelligent or charming as Elijah and Sienna, but she listens and that's what makes her special in her field.  
> When a supposed drunk driver crashes through the entrance of the ER, she has to use this skill to figure out what caused the patient to crash.  
> In the process, she longs to comfort her mentor, Ethan Ramsey, who is struggling with treating a potential addict, so soon after discovering his overdosed mother.

The ER was quiet, slow; something about the stillness made the hair on the back of Caylinn’s neck stand up, she was twitchy, it felt _wrong_. She exchanged uneasy glances with Sienna and Elijah, the two of them feeling it too, as they shadowed their own interns. It was like seeing a deserted carnival, a place where there should be movement and noise and excitement but felt wrong and haunted in its silence. She followed Esme Ortega to a patient closer to the door, trying to push the uneasy feeling back, her hands fisted into the pockets of her white coat, her thumb clicking the top of her pen continuously.

“What’s wrong with you?” Esme’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, the bite of her voice no harsher than normal, the hand on her upper arm, however, proved that her irritation was more with the clicking noise coming from her pocket than anything else.

“It’s nothing,” she responded, an easy smile pulling her lips. You can’t comment on the stillness of the ER, it’s like making a comment about it not raining when stuck on the side of the road—it’s asking for catastrophe. Her intern didn’t believe her, going by the cocked eyebrow leveled at her. “Just feeling restless, it’s fine.”

“I’m so bored!” Mitch groaned, tossing his pager into the air to catch it. “Can’t we go do something else? It’s so dead—”

“Mitch!” Sienna gasped, horrified. The three older residents tensed, causing confusion in their interns. Sienna started slapping at Mitch’s large arm, swatting furiously, he frowned down at her, unfazed by her tiny hands.

“You can’t say shit like that in the ER,” Elijah said, his voice a little high with anxiety, waiting for the ball to drop. “It jinxes it.”

Esme laughed, sliding over towards Sothy, jumping at him with a loud noise, causing him to squeal and dance away from her. They all laughed good naturedly, and Caylinn saw Ethan Ramsey walking towards her. Her smile widened, lifting her chin and pushing her shoulders back and, in turn, her breasts forward. The gleam in his eyes when he saw that made her blush softly, but as he got closer, a frown drew his eyebrows in, before his eyes widened in shock, looking behind her.

“Everybody away from the entrance!” He yelled, lunging at her, tackling her into the hallway just outside of the ER as the entire entrance crashed around right where she had been standing. She stared at the damage that she could see over Ethan’s shoulder, and then his face was blocking her view as he looked at her, his mouth moving as if he was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him over the ringing in her ears. She blinked at him in confusion, and then his hands were all over her. She swatted at them weakly, but gave in as his hands reached her neck, sliding his fingers into her hair, and then she hissed in pain as a headache started, as if she had cracked her head—then she understood. When Ethan had tackled her away from whatever crashed through the entrance of the ER, she had smacked her head against the ground; the hearing loss, undoubtedly temporary, the headache and the sudden irritation were signs of a concussion. _Great_ , she thought.

He stood up, holding his hands out to help her stand, and when she straightened, she immediately doubled over, pushing him away as she threw up, the sudden change from laying down to standing was too much. She felt his hands pulling her hair out of the way, rubbing a soothing hand up her back; with every pass up her spine, the ringing in her ears died down, until she was finally able to hear the soft words he was whispering to her.

She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her coat, and straightened slowly with his help, then he had an arm around her shoulders and the other around her knees, and he was picking her up, holding her safely in his arms. He carried her to the hospital’s atrium, placing her gently on the comfortable chairs by the reception desk, before turning and speaking with the reception nurse. She leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs, her head resting in her hands, her head pounding.

“Hey, Darling! Think fast!” She was too slow to look up, to react, to do anything other than let out a groan. Then she heard something crunch near her, and she looked up seeing Ethan’s arm outstretched gripping a water bottle, that was very close to hitting her in the head. She whimpered at the thought, thinking about how much more pain she was going to be in. She looked past Ethan’s arm, made easier when he moved it to hand her the bottle, to see Bryce Lahela striding towards them, a bounce in his step.

“You’re in a hospital, Lahela, stop throwing things,” Ethan snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Caylinn can catch worse throws than that, Ramsey. I’ve seen her dive for runaway popcorn during movie nights,” he laughed, glancing down at her. His expression turned serious, crouching on the ground in front of her, gently pushing her hands out of the way to shine a penlight in her eyes, to which she grabbed the pen blindly and chucked it, groaning as the movement jarred her head. He looked up at Ramsey, who grimaced, and he snapped, “How did she get a concussion?”

Ethan coughed, shifting his shoulders, as he flinched from the accusation. “I did it,” he answered, gruffly, unsure as to why he was nervous about Lahela’s reaction. “There was an accident in the ER, it was headed right for her and I moved her out of the way. She landed badly.”

“You _shoved_ her?” Bryce’s reaction was explosive, standing up and going toe-to-toe with the attending. “She’s half your size, how could you just—”

“I tackled her Lahela,” Ethan cut in, sharply, refusing to back down from the surgical resident. “A car came through the doors, and I tackled her out of the way.”

A nurse finally came up to them with a wheelchair, and he had to force himself to not help her into the chair, especially when Lahela just manhandled her into the chair without a thought. She groaned at the movement, her eyes closed—a new symptom, sensitivity to light—but didn’t fight her friend, knowing that regardless of what she said, he’d just throw her over his shoulder: he had done it before.

“I’m taking her for a CT scan but the ER may need you,” Ethan said to Bryce, taking hold of her wheelchair, steering her towards the elevator. “Page June and Baz, they’ve been dying for something to do.”

Caylinn knew she had fallen asleep in the CT machine, knew it because she swore she had just been placed in it, when Ethan started pulling her out. She was groggy, a side effect of any headache she’s ever had, but she was feeling better—even better when Ethan caressed her cheek gently, before he slid his hand to her neck, running his palm along the column of her throat, a calming gesture for them both. She opened her eyes and smiled sweetly up at him, his own soft smile answering her.

“No concussion?” she asked, hopefully.

“No concussion,” he agreed.

She sat up and he handed her a Tylenol and a glass of water, watching as she cracked the pill in half and downed it with the water. He helped her off the bench, the height of it unnecessary, which she told him as much, and he laughed.

“It’s sizeist,” she went on, as they walked back towards the ER, shoulders brushing. “Giraffes like you can just deal with it being shorter!”

“Few people are as tiny as you,” he teased, seeing the fake outrage twist her features in a laughing scowl. “I know for a fact that Baz can easily get in and out of the CT machine without issue, and he is normal sized. There are just more normal to large sized people than short.”

“Sienna had to use a step ladder to get into one,” she laughed, shoving at him gently. “Why do we have to use extra hardware to get into one? That could save so much money right there!”

He threw his head back and laughed, and she felt giddy butterflies dance in her stomach knowing she had done that. It had become easier to make him laugh, easier for him to let his guard down around her now that they had agreed to this secret arrangement of theirs. She bumped him with her shoulder that giddy feeling coming back when it allowed them to brush hands, his fingers twining loosely with hers, giving a squeeze. It lasted no more than a moment but the soft warm feeling in her chest was worth it.

Then they were entering the ER and they stilled as they took in the damage.

*

Luckily, when Ethan had yelled for everyone to get away from the entrance, the only one hurt was Caylinn, and that was pure dumb luck on her part. But, on top of the patient they had just removed from the driver’s seat of the car, Mitch’s comment had indeed brought said catastrophe down on the ER, packed with the usual amount of people. June and Baz were already discussing causes for the crash, ranging from having fallen asleep to sneezing uncontrollably, making it a game for the most random reason. They had already sent tests to the lab to check for blood-alcohol level and were just waiting on the results. They turned as Caylinn and Ethan sidled up towards them.

“Heard there was a football game in here earlier,” Baz said with a grin, causing Ethan to roll his eyes, crossing his arms.

“I was so close to a touchdown!” Caylinn lamented, letting out a snort as she giggled with him. “Had to be a yellow flag, but the referee was distracted.”

“Harry! Harry! Oh, god, Harry, what happened?” A frantic woman came running towards them, surprisingly swift for a woman of her size as she dodged around other patients and hospital staff. Her silver streaked brown hair was falling out of her braid, and she froze as she saw her car crashed through the entrance. Her grey eyes filled with tears as she threw herself at the man on the gurney.

A nurse rushed up to the diagnostics team, handing Ethan the results of the blood work, who looked it over, his expression hardening, his jaw tensing as he scowled at the paper. He handed Caylinn the results, and she understood instantly why he was so angry. The alcohol level in this man’s blood was off the charts—to top it off he even had alcohol poisoning.

“Mrs. Thomas?” she said, gently, touching the woman’s shoulder softly before pulling back, handing the results off to June. “Mrs. Thomas, where was your husband tonight?”

The woman looked at her, stroking her fingers absently through her husband’s hair, the tears in her eyes refusing to fall. Her nose was red as she sniffled, grasping onto Caylinn’s strength. She cleared her throat, swiping her free hand across her eyes, capturing the tears and wiping them away.

“H-he was at work,” she whispered, hoarsely, coughing to conceal her broken voice. “He was on his way home.”

“How often does he drink?” Caylinn asked, soothingly; there was no accusation in her voice, just a gentle routine question.

Mrs. Thomas frowned, confusion etched across her face. “Harry doesn’t drink,” she said slowly. She looked between Caylinn’s calm expression and Ethan’s dark one, settling back on the former, her eyes slightly wider after her glance at the male doctor. “He has an allergy to ethanol. He had a drink at our wedding and almost died.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Thomas,” Caylinn murmured, reaching forward and squeezing her hand. “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure he’s okay.”

*

“Ethanol allergies aren’t a small thing,” June said, as they sat in the diagnostics office. She was seated primly at the round table, her right leg crossed over her left, twirling her pen between her fingers. “They’re catastrophic almost instantly. There’s no way he could have made it to his car, let alone into the wall of a hospital.”

Ethan grunted noncommittally from his post by the window, looking out over the patients walking into the free clinic, his hands clasped at the small of his back, his feet planted shoulder width apart. Caylinn hadn’t taken her eyes off of him, watching him closely, knowing that the thought of addiction reminded him of his mother; he was spiraling and she wanted to make sure that she could catch him before he went down the drain.

“He didn’t smell like alcohol, either,” Baz added, lifting his mug to his lips to take a sip of his tea. He looked over at Caylinn and winked at her over the edge of the cup, pulling a grin from her.

“That’s not saying much,” she laughed, brushing her hand through her red hair, shoving it out of her face. “I spend like all my free time at Donahue’s, I permanently smell like a brewery.”

“I happen to think you smell very nice,” Baz flirted, innocently. It pulled a snort from her, and she saw Ethan’s hands clench from the corner of her eye, but she ignored him, to smile sweetly at her friend.

“Tell me that again during flu season when I’m covered in patient vomit,” she quipped, bringing her attention back to her phone as she looked through online medical journals.

“It’s a date!” Baz said, excitedly, causing her to laugh and shake her head. The team went back to researching what could have caused the major spike in alcohol content in their patient’s blood. She felt a gaze on her, and she looked up, passed June flipping through a symptom book, around Baz who had gotten up to get more tea, to focus on Ethan who stared at her with an unfathomable expression. Their gazes locked, and he cocked his head to the side, his eyes dark, before he turned and walked out of the office. She frowned after him, but shrugged it off, turning back to her phone to continue scrolling through the journal.

* _Blip*_

Her phone chimed as a text came through, and she let out a shaky breath as she read _Ethan Ramsey_ at the top of her screen. She opened it, hands trembling a little, and felt a blush heat her cheeks at the message:

_Seventh floor on-call room._

She stood up, murmuring that she was going to get lunch, and left the room in a hurry, breaking out into a run to the elevator. She jammed the button several times, unsure as to why she did it—it didn’t make it show up any faster—and bounced on the balls of her feet as she waited. When the elevator dinged open, she hopped in, hitting the button for the seventh floor, jabbing at the ‘close door’ button, continuing to bounce on the balls of her feet as it carried her up to her destination. The door dinged open again and she bolted down the hall towards the on-call room, the butterflies in her stomach jumping up towards her throat, causing her core to heat up, feeling herself get wet at the thought of what lay behind that door. She took a deep breath in and entered.


	2. Chapter 2

When she stepped in, she had a moment to register that the room was pitch black, before hands gripped her shoulders, pressing her back into the wooden door, slamming it shut in the process, and heard the lock jolt into place. Then lips were pressed against hers, unnaturally gentle, as the hands on her shoulders slid up to cradle both sides of her neck, thumbs touching her chin to tilt her head up. She sighed, content, lips parting to allow his tongue to lick into her mouth, deepening the kiss. He was gentle with her, his hands shaking as he cradled her head in his hands; she didn’t know what he needed right now, but she knew she wanted him, and she reached up, slowly, grabbing a hold of his tie and loosening it, before starting to unbutton his shirt.

“ _Cayl_ ,” he breathed against her lips, a question, a prayer—pleading. She answered by shrugging out of her white coat, letting it drop carelessly to the floor in a heap, pulling away from him to pull her scrub top off. He let out a groan, pulling her away from the door, and walking her backwards towards one of the beds, his fingers gliding gently across the skin of her abdomen and sides, raising goosebumps in their wake. She shoved at the white coat that covered his shoulders, letting out a whining growl when it caught on the muscles of his arms. His smile against her lips was taunting, but he pulled his hands from her to pull the jacket off, tossing it on the top bed of the bunk he had led her to. He followed it with his shirt and tie, standing shirtless before her, before he easily unclasped her bra, the clip between her breasts, letting his fingers graze her nipples before he palmed them.

“Ethan,” she whined, reaching for the buckle of his belt. She huffed out a breath in frustration when her fingers fumbled with the metal, pulling a chuckle from him.

He grabbed her hands, stilling them, leaning forward and brushing his lips across her cheeks, sliding them to her ear, his tongue darting out to tease the shell of her ear, pulling a soft gasp from her. When he spoke in her ear, it was a quiet growl, sending shivers down her spine, “Relax, Rookie. Let me take my time.”

She swallowed nervously, nodding against him. His hand circled both of her wrists, pulling them up above her head, holding them against the frame of the top bunk. With his other hand, he snagged his tie and tied her wrists to the frame, gliding his fingers down her arms, over her breasts, and down over her stomach. He crouched in front of her, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her scrub pants, and pulling them down over her ass, down her shapely legs, pulling her runners off with them. He glanced at her panties, his eyebrow lifting in a question as he looked up at her.

She flushed, feeling it spread across her entire body, shifting her legs, embarrassed. “It was laundry day,” she mumbled. She completely forgot about the fact that her underwear today was a pair of joke panties that Jackie had gotten her for her birthday. They were extremely obscene, a fuchsia pink with a cartoon ice cream cone resting on her mound, with the words ‘Lick Me’ in gold glitter above it. He laughed then, his usual little pleased huff, and then it turned into a chuckle, before morphing into a full-blown laugh, as he rubbed his forehead against her stomach, stifling the sound as best he could.

His breath against her skin as his shoulders shook with his laughter caused her body to heat up, knowing his mouth was against her skin was intoxicating in itself, so it left her aroused rather than mortified that he was laughing at her panties—that he had _seen_ them. Then he was pressing sensual kisses against her abdomen as his laughter softened to small chuckles, trailing his lips down over her belly button, pulling a breathless giggle from her at the ticklish feeling, He pulled back, snorting when he looked at her panties again, before gripping her knee and pulling her leg over his shoulder, bringing her core closer to his face; she let out a soft whine, turning abruptly into a moan as he licked a stripe up her slit through the material of her underwear.

Then his eyes met hers, and he shredded the offending material leaving her bare to his gaze. She let out a startled moan, wrenching at the tie that held her bound to the bunk as he dove forward and took her clit into his mouth. He groaned against her, flicking his tongue against her, before lowering his mouth and kissing her entrance, letting his tongue glide inside of her. She let out a high-pitched keen, thrusting against him, straining against his tie, freezing when she heard the material stretch too far.

“Easy, _aprica_ ,” he rumbled against her folds, his fingers probing gently at her clenching entrance, pulling a soft whimper from her at the latin endearment: when he had first called her that, she hadn’t questioned it—she had researched it later, finding out it meant sunlight, and that made her insides all gooey, it still did. She looked down at him, meeting his roguish gaze as he eased his fingers inside of her, he leaned forward again and kissed her clit. The material in her hands made the same noise, and he laughed. “ _Easy_. That’s my favorite tie.”

He didn’t ease up on the thrusting of his fingers, adjusting his position so that he could angle his hand in differently, giving her no chance to head his warning, before she was bursting apart around him, sobbing out her moans, and then she was stumbling as the tie finally gave out. But he had anticipated it, the _bastard_ , and had stood up, her leg dropping from his shoulder to rest in the crook of his arm, as he wrapped his free hand around her wrists, engulfing them in his large hand, holding her in place. He picked her up easily, laying her down on the bottom bunk, toeing his shoes off, and pulling his pants and boxers off, placing them gently on the rest of his clothes on the top bunk. He crawled over her, eclipsing her tiny body, and she breathed out a sigh at how he dwarfed her, how safe she felt in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, reaching up to run her fingers across his bearded jaw, bending her knees and spreading them further apart. He lowered himself down on her, his cock brushing against her core, causing her to arch her back and gasp.

He nipped at her fingers, teasingly, ducking his head down to capture her lips in a scorching kiss. “Don’t be,” he rasped, trailing soft kisses across her cheek, down her throat. He nipped sharply at her collarbone, sucking a mark into her skin there, and she squirmed, her hips jerking against him, the head of his cock breeching her entrance. He growled low in his throat as he completed the move, thrusting forward until he was bottomed out. “How are you always so _tight_?” he groaned, hand sliding to her waist, and gripping her there, his hand large enough to almost cover the entirety of her abdomen.

“Because you have a monster cock,” she gasped out, gripping his wrist to push his hand down to her hip, squeezing so that he knew he could grab harder. He snapped his hips forward, fucking her up the bed, his hold on her hip hard enough to leave bruises, and she moaned at the thought. She reached up and slid her fingers into his hair, clenching the locks in her hand and pulling him down to her lips. “Ethan— _fuck_ , Ethan, _harder_!”

He pulled back from her, his hands sliding to the backs of her thighs, pushing her legs up so that her knees were against her chest, angling her ass up so that he could penetrate deeper, pounding into her, hitting that spot inside her with every thrust. The way his cock stretched her wide, thicker than anything she had experienced before, had her falling apart quickly around him; then his hand came up to wrap around her throat, effectively pinning her to the bed, his fingers pressing harshly into her pulse points, and she choked out a sobbing moan as she tightened around him, drenching his cock as she squirted.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he growled, thrusting harder and faster into her, the obscene squelches around his cock spurring him on. He pushed her through a second orgasm, her slick dripping over his cock and onto the bed, and he reached under her, palm flat against her lower back, pulling her closer to him, holding her tightly against him resting with his fist on the mattress by her hip, grinding into her. As she crested another orgasm, he came with her, aborted thrusts of his hips pushing him deeper inside her, leaning over her, gasping wetly into her neck.

She hummed in satisfaction, running her fingers through his hair, before gliding the pads of her fingers over his skin, soothingly, feeling him tremble against her, letting out little whines against her throat that he would deny later. As her mind cleared in the aftermath, she felt a smile tug her lips as she thought about how their relationship was very _MerDer_ , her his resident, and he her attending. And as she thought about her guilty pleasure show, her body went rigid.

She started squirming, her hips doing a little dance as giddiness flashed through her as she remembered. Ethan groaned against her, biting at her neck, pressing her hips closer to him in an effort to stop her movements. “You have to give me a little more time than that, Cayl. As you keep reminding me, I’m an old man,” he growled against her skin, causing shivers to wrack her body.

“That’s not—nevermind,” she giggled, baring her neck to the nips and kisses he left there. Then a pager started going off somewhere in the on-call room, causing him to slump above her, forcing the air out of her lungs. She always forgot how heavy he was, he very rarely let her feel the extent of it; but there was something endlessly comforting about his weight holding her down—she was going to have to explore this at some point.

He pulled back from her, placing soft kisses on her lips, his tongue teasing against her bottom lip, as he pulled out of her, pulling back to watch his come ooze out of her. He took a moment to scoop it up with his fingers, sliding it back inside of her, pulling a startled whine from her throat. She couldn’t remember when they had stopped using condoms, having used them consistently after that first time, but somewhere down the road it had stopped. She didn’t mind it, liked the feel of him filling her up, and when he did this, he did it with fathomless expression, slow, almost testing.

“Ethan, y-your pager,” she whimpered, feeling the heat creep up her body again, wondering if the flush of her skin made her glow in the darkness of the room. He hummed at her, before he got up, his fingers still deep inside her, and reached up to his belt, to unclip his pager. He slid back down, twisting his fingers inside of her, fucking her quickly, as he checked the screen of his pager. He hummed again, before tossing it on the chair in the corner of the room, shifting so that he knelt on the bed, his free hand wrapping around her throat again. She fisted the sheets in her hands, the muscles in her body straining, her legs shaking, whines and whimpers being torn from her throat; then he was leaning forward and sucking her clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it, matching the pace his fingers had set.

“ _E-Ethan_ ,” she moaned, reaching down to grip his hair, her fingers tightening, and then, just as she started a high-pitched keen, his free hand wrapped around her throat again, cutting off the sound as she came hard around him. He gave her mercy when her entire body became a trembling mess, and she sucked in air deeply, feeling her body shudder as her endorphins rushed through her body. Then she was gasping for air, panic settling in as she became overwhelmed.

This had only happened a handful of times before, the panic attack caused by the overwhelming oversensitivity of her body. He crawled over her again, pressing some of his weight into her, brushing her hair out of her face, crooning at her with words that she couldn’t register in the moment. When she finally calmed down, he was stroking her hair gently, humming Tchaikovsky to her; she shifted, causing him to move off of her as she sat up.

“How long—”

“A couple minutes,” he responded, as he stood up, starting to pull his clothes back on. She followed suit, sighing as she realized she was going to have to go commando in her scrubs. When she shrugged into her white coat, he crowded her back against the door, cupping her jaw in his hand and tilted her head up, brushing his lips gently over hers, pulling a contented sigh from her. He pulled back and locked his gaze with hers, and she wondered what he saw. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, opening her mouth to respond when her phone went off. She huffed out a laugh as she saw the string of emoji’s that blew up her phone in the group chat. “It’s just Bryce,” she murmured, opening the full text chain. “Wants to know if we’re having the _Grey’s_ marathon—”

Her idea came rushing back to her, staring at her phone, focused on the title of the show, gears in her mind whirring as she tried to figure out what she had remembered. “I have an idea,” she whispered, picking her shoes up from the floor and rushing to the door—she slammed into it, completely forgetting that it was locked—and rushed down the hall, sliding in her socks towards the elevator. As she bounced into, she turned to see Ethan slip quietly out of the on-call room, watching her, with his arms crossed. As the door closed, she blew him a kiss, and she caught a glimpse of the grin spreading his lips.


End file.
